


The Walk Home

by angieplaysthetracks



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 04:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angieplaysthetracks/pseuds/angieplaysthetracks
Summary: The girl who wants to be seen / The girl who wants to be heard.





	The Walk Home

Michelle’s head smiles innocently at her, beckoning her to put on the costume. Misaki makes a face in response, and sees two reflections of her grimace in each sparkling eye.

The bear watches the girl as she sighs, rolls her neck around, shakes out her arms, touches her toes, and cracks her knuckles. _Stretch the left leg, count to ten. Stretch the right leg, count to ten. Jump around, loosen up._

Misaki looks at herself in the mirror and grumbles. _Flat hair. Dull eyes. It’s no wonder the others would rather have the bear be in the band_ , she thinks, with no small amount of bitterness.

She looks at Michelle again, and this time tries to match the costume’s beaming smile. _It’s almost weird to see_. Even in pictures, she’s only ever offered as much as a small grin, never quite comfortable with anything more. Oddly amused, Misaki puts a hand on her hip and one in a V-sign, doing her best idol stance. She cocks her head and tries to stretch her mouth as wide as it can go, posing for the mirror with a half-crazed expression on her face.

“Misaki-chan, are you ready? Our show starts in—um, are you okay?”

Mortified, Misaki leaps back from where she’s leaning against the counter of the dressing room. Kanon is peeking through the half-open door in full concert getup, looking at her with concern.  

“Um, uh. Yes. Let me just get into…”

Trailing off, she scowls at Michelle’s head, resting on the table, silently laughing at her behind that unchanging, inscrutable smile. _What are you looking at?_

“R-right.” Kanon gives her an awkward thumbs-up and leaves, closing the door.

Misaki exhales slowly, and her heart rate returns to normal.

“Alright, take two,” she mumbles to herself. _Neck rolls, arm stretches, toes, knuckles. Left leg, right leg…_

The show is fine, probably. It’s actually not easy to tell. With limited vision, muffled hearing, and an uncomfortably hot costume, Misaki’s mind wanders more often than not. They’ve practiced the same set enough for her to catch all of the cues and as the composer, she has no problem keeping up with their songs. Aside from a vague awareness of the music, Misaki is in a world of her own, drifting away enveloped inside a cocoon of fur and fabric.

They’re playing alongside a whole host of aspiring idols and locally famous bands, each of them playing a few songs and showcasing their skills. Some of them are here to get noticed, some of them are here to get more performance experience, and Kokoro, presumably, has brought them here simply to spread their message of good cheer.

 _Say what you will about Kokoro, but her intentions are nothing but pure_ , she thinks. It was certainly one of the qualities that endeared the band to her over time.

Finally, the sounds of applause bring her back to reality, and she bows and waves to the audience. People, especially children, adore Michelle, which Misaki has always thought ironic—in her human form she’s not good with kids at all.

Back in the safety of the dressing room, she takes off the suit, fanning herself with relief and drinking from a water bottle. She leans back in her chair, arms and legs splayed out, trying to maximize her contact with fresh air.

“Hey, Misaki-chan, good work today!”

It’s Kanon again, and Misaki flails around, trying to find her way to a normal sitting position. _Ugh, this is the worst timing, I promise I’m not this awkward all the time, Kanon._

“Sorry to bother you, I just thought you might want some water?”

She holds out a water bottle with an oddly hopeful expression on her face, and Misaki tries desperately not to look at the half-full water bottle already in her hand.

Kanon notices anyway and winces. “Um… anyway, I’ll just leave this on the table,” she says, practically running for the door.

“Wait,” Misaki finds herself saying, “Kanon-san!”

She turns around, halfway out the door.

“You live close by, right?”

Later that night, she would try and figure out what exactly it was that made her ask Kanon to stay. A sense of gratitude, perhaps—Kanon was the only one who really acknowledged her work and always looked out for her. Maybe she just wanted to fix the awkward note they ended on. Maybe she wanted to get to know her bandmate better, someone soft and frilly and shy and often just as unreadable as Misaki herself.

“Do you want to walk home with me?”

Kanon gives her a small smile. “That sounds nice.”

For a moment, she basks in the warm glow of a successful social interaction before realizing-

“Uh, hold on, I gotta do my stretches," Misaki says, rolling out the stiffness in her neck.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Take your time!” Unsure whether or not to leave, Kanon stays rooted in place, looking quite bewildered.

Misaki leans down and touches her toes. “It’s just this thing I do before and after shows,” she says, counting to ten in her head. “Because the costume is hard to move in, and it kind of calms me down. Like meditation. Deep breaths, you know? Ah, I’m rambling, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to know,” and Kanon reaches down to follow suit, making it as far as her knees before stopping.

“Ow,” she says, and Misaki can’t help but laugh to herself _. Cute? Is it okay to think that about someone older?_

As she finishes her stretches, Kanon settles on sitting down and softly drumming out a rhythm from one of their songs on the table. Misaki, having written the song, recognizes it easily. _It’s kind of unexpected that someone as quiet and shy as Kanon would be a drummer._

“Kanon-san, how did you become a drummer?” She asks as they walk together, away from the venue.

“Promise not to laugh at me?”

Misaki nods, curious.

“Basically, when I was younger, I wanted to join the art club, because I wanted to learn how to draw. But I got mixed up and went to the wrong classroom. I walked in on the school band practicing, and I was so embarrassed... they asked me if I came to join, and I said yes because I didn’t want to admit I got lost.”

Misaki chokes and bends over the sidewalk, coughing uncontrollably.

Pouting, she says, “Hey, you promised!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Misaki says, still between coughs.

“Don’t worry, just breathe.” The older girl pats Misaki lightly on the back, “It’s kind of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, isn’t it? That I would stick to something for that long just because of one mistake. And I just said I would play percussion because I thought it would be the easiest to learn. Then I just kept playing, I guess.”

They continue walking in silence, comfortable from hours upon hours of time spent rehearsing and performing together.

Eventually, she asks, “Did you ever regret it?”

“Hm? Oh. Hm.” They stop at an intersection, and they stand together, listening to the cars and the beep of the crossing signal, filling in the gaps in their conversation.

“I don’t think so,” Kanon says, unexpectedly forthcoming. “It’s kind of nice. Especially when we play. I get to stay in the back, and people will think I’m cool even though I don’t say anything.” She giggles. “Even though I’m the least cool person imaginable.”

Without thinking, Misaki mumbles, “I think you’re cool.”

The light changes, and they cross.

“I know what you mean, though, about getting to be in the back. As much as I dislike that stupid bear costume—please don’t tell anyone else I said that—it’s nice not to be totally exposed to the audience, out in front and all.”

“Yeah… don’t you think it would be nice though? To be brave and face everyone head-on? That’s why I admire people like Kokoro-chan… she’s never afraid or shy. She just gives it her all every time, without stopping or looking back…”

Misaki nods. _She's usually so quiet... but Kanon is_ _really nice to talk to._ _I should spend more time with her._

“Anyway,” Kanon turns the corner of the sidewalk, swinging the bag holding her costume. “My home is just down here,” she says, gesturing to a housing complex in the distance.”

“Oh.” They stop. “Right.”

They stand there, facing each other, listening to the incessant beeping of another crosswalk.

“What, do you think I’ll get lost on the way to my own house?” Kanon says, teasingly.

Misaki turns bright red, and stammers, “H-Huh? I mean, I-I didn’t-”

The other girl laughs, and it’s a light, refreshing sound. “Just some payback for laughing at me earlier,” she says.

“I deserve that.” Misaki clears her throat. “So, I’ll see you, uh, next week? For practice?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Thanks for walking me home.”

And with that, Kanon steps forward and gives her a light embrace, briefly resting her chin on Misaki’s shoulder.

And for one moment, Misaki doesn’t think  _do I smell weird from the costume,_ or _I should have walked her all the way to her house,_  or _oh god, I’m being so awkward,_ or _am I sweaty? I hope I’m not sweaty_.

Although these would all be thoughts echoing around and around in her mind later, for one wonderful moment, all she thinks about is how nice it is to be with Kanon. And as she stands there and watches Kanon walk down the street, look back, and wave goodbye one more time, Misaki is worry-free.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how popular this pairing is. Pretty popular I think? Either way, I hope to have convinced you to support it by the end of this fic. I also approached it with the goal of realistically fleshing out the members of Hello, Happy World (so please be forgiving if my interpretations of the characters are not in line with yours).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and stay tuned for more chapters. Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know! 
> 
> Lastly: if you want, check out my first fic, Waiting for Friday (tsugusayo):  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141149/chapters/35110472


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